The Night of the Mind Swap
by MissRedhead82
Summary: James West and Artemus Gordon have their individual vacations interrupted and become embroiled in a plot by a Confederate turned mad scientist to assassinate President Grant. Note: previously posted elsewhere as TNOT Mindless Bodies but has been re-named and re-edited


TNOT Mind Swap

_Author's Note_: This story was originally published as The Night of the Mindless Bodies in other forums. It has been renamed and slightly modified from the original

"Well, that takes care of that," Artemus Gordon strode over to his partner, James West, who was leading their horses down the ramp. "They're going to look over the engine and the rods and wheels on the cars, and hopefully have her back to us by next Monday."

West tightened the cinches on his horse, "your horse is ready Artie. See you next week," he hoisted himself into his saddle.

"Oh, thanks Jim. See you next Monday." Gordon mounted and the two partners offered each other a cheery little wave goodbye as they parted.

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"Wow, you're really a special agent for President Grant?"

"That's right," Artemus smiled and offered his arm to his lovely date.

The young lady gladly took the proffered arm and continued her questioning. "It's so nice that you have a good partner at your back. What was his name again, Mr. West?" The amiable smile suddenly dropped off of Gordon's face, and she turned to see what had stolen the attention of her date, then her face took on a chiseled cast of fear.

"Alright, just stand there silently and do as I say and nobody will get hurt, ya hear?" A filthy robber held the couple at gunpoint. Gordon took note that the greasy little man's gun hand trembled almost imperceptibly. "Now, you Miss, drop yer purse and kick it over here." The girl gave her date a frightened glance, who nodded, then she did as the thief instructed. "Good. Now your wallet, Sir."

Gordon slowly reached inside his jacket and bought out his wallet. With an unconcerned flick of his wrist, he tossed it at the feet of the dirty thief. The robber glanced down and bent over carefully to pick up his loot, keeping the gun still pointed at his victims. Suddenly a cloud of smoke emitted from the wallet, startling the grubby little man. Artemus took this opportunity to whack the robber's hand with his walking cane, sending the thief's gun a couple feet out of reach. The robber looked in surprise at his gun and received a hard blow to his chin from the fist of one, angry, Secret Service agent.

"Sorry about that my dear," Artemus handed his stunned date her purse and straightened his cloak. "Shall we continue?" His date enthusiastically reclaimed his arm and launched back into a stream of questions and praises.

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"You mean an unarmed man beat you up when you had a gun?"  
The greasy little robber's face burned deep red with humiliation as the rest of his drinking mates roared with laughter. He raised his beer mug, hoping to hide behind it.

"All right, everyone shut up," a rather tall, and well dressed newcomer slammed his fist down upon the table. "You know why you're all here?"

"Sure do," hiccupped the patch-eyed thief. "We're gonna get paid big bucks if we bring in those two federal agents."

The sophisticated newcomer observed the patch-eyed thief disdainfully. "Secret Agents West and Gordon are in Washington for one week on vacation. You have until then to bring them back alive to claim your sum of money. If they die, you die. Clear?" An affirmative grunt went 'round the table. "Good. Now half of you will go after Agent West, and the other half will go after Agent Gordon."

"Hey, the guy I was, er, robbing was a Mister West," the greasy little thief said from behind his empty beer mug.

"Good. Then you go with the group going after West. And this time Felix, try not to let him beat you up." Another roar of laughter went up from the table.

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James West and his companion chuckled heartily and took another gulp of beer.

West's drinking partner rested his half drunken beer on the table. "Oh, how's Gordon doing?"

The shabby occupants of the next table over looked at each other meaningfully and downed their drinks in one last swig before making a hasty exit.

West and his companion however, took no notice of anything beyond their beer mugs and continued their lighthearted conversation until they could see through the bottom of their glass mugs.

"Well Jim," West's drinking buddy put down his mug heavily on their table and rose from his seat, "it's been a pleasure seeing you again."

West finished his drink and stood also, "It's been good seeing you too Henry."

The two men shook hands and went their separate ways. West strolled down the relatively deserted streets of Washington D.C. Suddenly he got shoved down into the dirt road by someone jumping on him from behind. West gave the man on his back a vigorous assist, landing the man on his own back in the dirt road a few feet away. West bought a dusty sleeve across his mouth and got a fist in his cheek. He staggered a couple paces sideways before returning the favor by planting his right fist in the face of his second attacker. The first guy took a swing at the Secret Service agent, which West easily dodged. One uppercut from James West sent the man back into the dirt road again, this time to take a nap. West straightened his blue jacket and bent down to pick up his black hat when there was a sharp prick in his neck. He collapsed to his knees and pulled the dart out of his neck and looked at it blearily for a second before passing out face down in the dirt.

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"We got 'im, we's got Gordon, Boss." A band of filthy and pretty beat up looking thugs half dragged West's comatosed body across the cluttered laboratory to where Amburn and his assistant Lleroy were working on a piece of equipment.

Amburn put down the tool he was working with and turned around. "You dolts. This isn't Gordon, it's West." Amburn turned back to his machinery. "Anyhow, just put him in the cell over there," Amburn gestured with the butt of a wrench. "Gently."

A few minutes later the other gang of thugs, as badly beaten up as the first gang, came into the laboratory, lugging the unconscious body of Artemus Gordon.

"So Felix, you've managed to bring back Mr. Gordon," Amburn commented, barely looking up from his work.

"Huh? This is West, Boss. I heard his girl say his name."

Amburn finished up with what he was doing and turned to face the ratty little thief. "You heard the girl say his partner's name. No matter, we now have both Mr. West and Mr. Gordon. Put him in the next cell. Felix?"

"Yeah, Boss?"

"What's that in your hand?"

The little man's beady eyes twinkled, "I blackjacked 'im." Felix grinned, showing his rotten, crooked teeth.

Amburn smiled shrewdly, "you were not to harm him, Felix."

Lleroy glared at the ratty little man and punched his palm menacingly.

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A double groan went up from the two cells containing James West and Artemus Gordon. Amburn walked over to the cells.

"Private West. It's been over ten years since we last saw each other."

West slowly sat up on his cot and looked coldly into his captor's eyes. "Twelve years, three months, and some odd number of days."

Amburn let out a low chuckle. "This time the tables are turned, aren't they?"

"It would seem so."

"But I shall give you the same hospitality your general told you to give me." Amburn turned and left the room.

"Mind telling me what that all was about?" Gordon sat up on his cot and wincing in pain, rubbed the back of his head.

"Charles Amburn was a Confederate spy in General Grant's troops at Donelson and was to be executed but during the fray he somehow escaped." West pulled a fuse from inside his blue jacket and some matches and put them under his pillow.

Gordon did the same. "So, uh, might I venture to ask if that hospitality he was talking about is that he is going to execute you? And how do I fit in with this joyous reunion?"

Amburn reappeared in the doorway across the lab carrying two trays of food.

"Artie, you are morbid. I was only a private at the time; I wasn't part of the firing squad. I gave him his supposedly last meal."

Amburn placed the trays on the floor and pushed them through a slot in the bottom of the cells with a broom, being careful to stay out of reach of his prisoners. West and Gordon picked up their trays and sat down on their cots. Amburn stepped back and watched his prisoners eat.

"I'm sure you're wondering why you are here."

Gordon gave a slight shrug as he bit into a drumstick.

"You, Mr. West and Mr. Gordon, are going to assassinate President Grant for me."

West folded his arms across his chest, "what makes you think we are going to kill the man we've sworn our lives to protect?"

Amburn tapped his lower lip in thought for a second before replying. "Well, let me correct my statement."

"I think you'd better." West said gravely.

"Your physical bodies are going to assassinate General Grant."

"But why then would our –physical bodies- do that?" Gordon probed for a further explanation.

"Because I will be controlling your bodies."

Gordon folded his arms across his chest, "might I inquire by what method you mean to do that by?"

Amburn cocked his head and smiled slyly at Gordon, "I have created a machine capable of swapping the minds of two persons without the need of an operation switching the physical brains."

"Ridiculous," Gordon laughed. "Not possible."

"You think so Mr. Gordon? Well you and Mr. West are going to be my human guinea pigs. If it is a success then my assistant and I will go in your bodies and assassinate General Grant."

"So what if it does work? Why our bodies and not your own or someone else's? And if you do succeed in assassinating the President, you'll be in jail, albeit in our bodies, but you'll still be the ones in jail pending execution and we'll still be alive in your bodies." Gordon asked with conviction.

"Why you and Mr. West and not myself or somebody else's bodies? Because I would be arrested for my past with your President and you are the top two most trusted Secret Service agents to General Grant. How tragic, how dramatic it would be for him to be assassinated by the two persons he trusts the most." If possible, Amburn's smile turned even more sadistic. "And, I do plan on getting my assistant and I back to our own bodies and it will be you in your own bodies in those jail cells pending execution."

West cocked his head to the other side, "If you do get into the White House in our bodies, the President is heavily guarded, even if you did shoot him, you'd never be able to make it back here to hook the four of us up and return all four minds to the right bodies before being stopped by the White House guards and being arrested."

"How and when I switch our minds back doesn't matter. It will happen and you will be the ones framed for assassinating General Grant and you two will be dead and I will still be alive and free. Now I must leave you and instruct my assistant accordingly." With that said, Amburn once again left the Secret Service agents alone.

"We can't let him get to the President no matter what," Gordon said as he took out the fuse from under his pillow and pressed it against the bars of his cell. "Do you really think that he can switch people's minds with that thing," he asked his partner.

West lit his fuse and stood back. "There's only one way to find out and I'm not too keen on wanting to. No matter what though, this laboratory must be destroyed and Amburn and his assistant must be placed under arrest."

"Right," Gordon grunted as he pulled the last of the bars free. "Let's go get 'im."

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West and Gordon ran over to the base of the stairs when Amburn and his assistant appeared through the doorway at the top.

"Mr. West, Mr. Gordon, I wouldn't think of having you leave so soon. It seems I have somewhat underestimated the Secret Service. No matter though." Amburn blew a dart into West's neck and Lleroy sent one into Gordon's. "Let's get them on the tables."

Amburn picked up West's feet and Lleroy picked West up the from under the knocked out agent's arms. They positioned West's prone body on the table then strapped him down and placed a metal cap on his head. Amburn and Lleroy then did the same to Gordon. When they were done readying their two guinea pigs, they stepped behind a huge machine and Amburn flipped a large switch. The machine beeped and whirled and flashed for two minutes. Amburn flipped the switch back off then he and Lleroy tilted the operating tables straight up and down and turned the two agents so they were facing each other at a slight angle. Amburn and Lleroy then crossed the lab and took up positions to observe their subjects.

'West' slowly opened his eyes and did a double take upon seeing his own body in front of him. He slowly looked down and noticed he was not only in his partner's clothes, but his body. "West" turned his hand in his restraints to make sure this was real.

'Gordon' shifted uncomfortably in his bonds then opened his eyes shortly after his partner. Since his wrists were bound he couldn't rub his eyes in disbelief, but he did let his jaw hang and he glanced down at the body he was in.

"Artie, don't let my jaw hang there, it doesn't become me."

'Gordon' shut his mouth then opened it again. "Jim?"

"Yes, Artie?"

"May I ask how you breathe in this suit?" West's face grimaced in a way it never had before.

Gordon's face took on a West-like cocky smile that it had never known before. "Well I'm surprised you don't carry more on your person with how much room you have in your clothes."

Amburn came back into the agent's view. "Well, Mr. West," Amburn looked into the dark brown eyes of Gordon. "Mr. Gordon," the blue eyes of West snapped up to meet Amburn's green ones, "it looks like my experiment has worked. Lleroy, you can roll West's body aside there and bring in another table," Amburn instructed his assistant as he fitted the metal cap onto Gordon's unruly black hair.

Amburn then hooked his assistant up to the machine and swapped the essences of 'Lleroy' and 'West,' putting 'Lleroy' in Gordon's body and 'West' in Lleroy's. Amburn then unstrapped Gordon's body and stabbed Lleroy's body with a needle. "Lleroy, lock 'Mr. West' up in the room upstairs, since they have ruined our nice cells."

West's face frowned in a very Artie-like manner as 'Gordon' watched his own body drag the body harboring his partner's soul up the stairs.

"Okay Lleroy, you know how it's done, now put me into Mr. West's body." Amburn said as he got onto the vacated table.

'Gordon' looked into his own brown eyes as 'Lleroy' placed the metal back on 'Gordon's' poofy new hairstyle. 'Gordon' was sure his partner's face never cringed before as it did so now.

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"Well, it doesn't get much easier than that. You'd almost think he wanted us to escape." 'Gordon' commented as he and 'West' walked over the downed door of their room.

"Forget it Artie. We've got to stop Amburn and his goon."

'Gordon' gave his partner a dirty look, since Amburn's "goon" was in his body. "Whoa, James my boy. Like you said before, Amburn –me- would be arrested on sight and they would never let you in, in that body."

"You have an idea in mind then?"

Amburn's face twisted into the sardonic smile he had worn earlier when telling his prisoners his plans. "As a matter of fact, I do."

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"Stop playing with your mask Jim. I'll have you know that I went through great pain making it." 'Gordon' searched for a light brown wig that would work under West's black hat.

"How can you enjoy wearing all this?" 'West' gestured to his head.

Amburn's voice came from the back of the car. "It's more comfortable than trying to get this body into your clothes, let me tell ya. Okay, I'm ready."

"Here are my papers. I have yours. Let's go save the president."

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A young White House guard fidgeted under the glare of Agent James T. West. "Now Mr. West, Mr. Gordon, you know you're supposed to have your papers and surrender your guns when entering the president's chamber."

"You know who we are, now let us in to see President Grant. You're holding up the delivery of an urgent message." West tried to push past the guard.

"What's going on here boys?" Colonel Richmond came up behind West and Gordon.

The guard nervously looked at Richmond. "Mr. West and Mr. Gordon say they have urgent business with the president but they don't have their papers and they won't yield their arms."

"Mr. West and Mr. Gordon have weapons clearance, and if they had their papers you would know that. Now, why don't you boys have your papers and why didn't you telegraph me first with your business?" Richmond demanded of the two Secret Service agents.

"Sir, there is a threat against the president and we have to act quickly. You must let us in now." West turned back towards the door separating him from Grant.

Richmond opened his mouth to reply but was interrupted.

"Wait!" Another West and Gordon plowed their way through the building. "Don't let them in," the second Gordon panted.

"I demand to know what's going on here!" Richmond's eyes traveled up and down both Wests and Gordons.

The first West and Gordon drew their guns and pointed them at Colonel Richmond and the guard. A quick glace passes between the second Gordon and the second West and they jumped the West and Gordon holding the guns; fortunately the guns went off without hitting anyone. White House guards and Richmond stood around, watching the fight and wondered if they should break it up or just wait until the four fighting 'agents' simply knocked each other out. The outcome looked very much like second West and Gordon beating the first West and Gordon. The second West and Gordon drew back their fists, ready to deliver the final blows when suddenly the four fighting men froze for five long seconds. The four of them looked down and then at each other. The second West and Gordon turned to run but the first West and Gordon lunged into them, knocking them down to the ground and pinning them there. The White House guards seized the four men and positioned them against the wall.

"What is going on here Colonel? West? Gordon?" President Grant came out of his office but showed no outward shock that there were two rather bruised Wests and Gordons.

"They're imposters!" The second West pulled his papers out of his jacket pocket.

"They stole our papers! They're the imposters, I'll prove it." The first Gordon ripped off the mask of the second West, revealing Charles Amburn, ex-Confederate officer.

The first West pulled the mask off of the second Gordon, "and this is Amburn's assistant in the plot of assassinating President Grant.

"Good job for stopping them boys. But how did they get outside of my door?" Irritated, Grant puffed on his cigar.

"And why did you draw your guns on your superior, West, and a White House guard, Gordon." Richmond added in barely controlled outrage.

"It'll be in our report, Sirs." West and Gordon said simultaneously and snapped to attention.

Grant went back into his chamber and closed the door behind him and an unhappy looking Richmond dismissed the two agents. "That better be one heluva report boys."

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"Did you have to bruise my right arm like that? Or do you want to tap out this report since I spared yours?" Gordon moaned and sat back in his chair.

"You didn't do so bad a job yourself Artie," West replied as he looked over his own bruises in the mirror sitting on the table.

"There. I wrote it all out. From Amburn's kidnapping us to us burning down his laboratory. Jim? Why are you staring at me like that?" Gordon wearily asked his partner who was now staring at him and smiling broadly.

"I did do some great work of my own there, didn't I?"

Gordon threw down his pencil and glared at his partner for a few seconds then cracked up and his partner joined in the laughter.


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